


Let The Ink Dry

by xRamona



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Gen, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 08:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14209275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRamona/pseuds/xRamona
Summary: Arya Stark had never put much stock into the whole soulmate thing. After all, what did it really matter?She supposed maybe she just didn't want to bend to the will of something as idiotic as fate or destiny. She would carve her own path in life and whatever Gods there were could just suck it.Suffice to say, the fine print on the backside of her palm didn't come as too much of a surprise. Sure, she hadn't been expecting to see chicken scratch there when she went to reach for her binder that evening, but life had a funny way of throwing her curveball after curveball.(or the soulmate au nobody asked me for)





	Let The Ink Dry

Arya Stark had never put much stock into the whole  _ soulmate _ thing. It was a common enough occurrence that not having one was deemed a little strange, but she never found herself caring one way or another. After all, what did it really matter?   
  
She supposed maybe she just didn't want to bend to the will of something as idiotic as fate or destiny. She would carve her own path in life and whatever Gods there were could just suck it.   
  


Suffice to say, the fine print on the backside of her palm didn't come as too much of a surprise. Sure, she hadn't been expecting to see chicken scratch there when she went to reach for her binder that evening, but life had a funny way of throwing her curveball after curveball.   
  
**_‘odd pg 207-210 due tomorrow’_ ** was scrawled in dark ink, a sharp contrast to her fair skin. Or at least she thought that was what it said; the handwriting was honestly appalling and for a moment she sincerely worried about whoever had to grade that assignment. It wasn't likely to be legible.   
  
Despite knowing full well it wouldn't come off, Arya still slipped into the bathroom that connected her room to her sisters and locked both doors before scrubbing at the scribble. After a full three minutes _ -  no that she'd been counting or anything - _ she gave up and accepted that this wasn't some sort of fluke.

She opted for long sleeves that night and, by the time she awoke in the morning, the words were gone.

* * *

 

Arya debated about writing something back. A comment, a question, just something to clue the other person in. It felt strange to knowingly leave them in the dark, but it seemed equally off-putting to tell them. Somehow it made everything all the more real and she wasn't entirely sure she was ready for that.

She hadn't even mentioned it to her family yet. Hadn't even told Jon, and he was her closest confidant. Hell, she hadn't even thought about how to bring this up to her family. She couldn't recall anybody closely related to them realizing they were matched so young. Robb had found out at twenty and Sansa, just last year, at eighteen. Their early reveal had shocked her parents. To know their youngest daughter, still in school, had already matched?

An ambulance would need to be on speed dial for all she figured.

So she let it happen a few more times without offering a reply. It was always the same; reminders about homework, times that obviously had no meaning to her, and even a crude shopping list on occasion.

About a month went by until she finally decided to reply.

* * *

 

It hadn't even been her call  _ \- not really, anyways _ .

**_'forrester packet due 26th’_ ** showed up on her hand when she was stuffing her notebook into her bag, eager to leave her last class of the day. She only knew that it was then because the words formed in front of her eyes, making up the awful penmanship she was growing accustomed to  _ \- honestly, she was getting a pretty good grasp on it by that point - _ and stopping her in her tracks.

Arya looked up and scanned the room, mentally marking down every person with a pen in their hand. It was only six. Most of her peers were already pushing their way out the door and into the halls flooding with teenagers, and by the time she’d gained enough sense to check the hands of those left it was too late.

The reality hit her and she leaned against her desk momentarily. Of course she knew it was a student. The reminders about assignments made that clear. But she hadn't known what school or level or anything of the sort. She didn't even bother to wonder more than a few seconds at a time. So the idea that her soulmate shared a class with her brought a shock to her chest.

Maybe it shouldn't have. Who knew?

Mr. Forrester cleared his throat and gestured to the doorway, impatiently encouraging her to get a move on. Yeah, he had a life to get to as well, she supposed. She mumbled an excuse and threw her bag over her shoulder as she rushed out the door.

Arya had been sitting at her desk for twenty minutes, favorite pen in hand the entire time and still trying to come up with the right words.

Nothing seemed to fit and she was growing more aggravated the longer she thought. A simple greeting just felt odd and wasn't at all her style. It was much harder to come up with the first words to say to a person when she knew that person would be a permanent fixture in her life, Arya realized.

Eventually, she settled on a choice and began writing before she had a chance to change her mind.

**_‘have you started the packet yet?’_ **

She bit her lip.

She clicked the pen an obnoxious amount of times.

She closed her eyes and breathed out.

She beat her nails against the desk.

Finally, after a few minutes that felt like decades, she peeked at her hand.

Absolutely nothing.

No response.

They had written on their hand the day before! It was clearly a habit of theirs. How had the idiot not seen anything yet?

Relief and disappointment bubbled and mixed in her chest after her mental outburst and Arya headed downstairs to rummage for a snack in an effort to distract herself.

Thank all the Gods she knew of, it worked.

She was halfway through her turkey sandwich by the time she noticed a reply. It wasn't exactly her proudest moment when she jumped for her pen so quickly that she managed to make herself choke, but it wasn't exactly like anybody had seen it either so she decided it wasn't her  _ worst _ moment, at least.

**_'uh no’_ **

They sounded so awkward, but she could understand that. She didn't exactly give any warning. Not that there was any way to really ease this information in, but hey, that wasn't _her_ fault. Before she could think too long on anything else, two more words appeared beneath those.

**_'did you?’_ ** **_  
_ **

**_'not yet. maybe tomorrow, dunno.’_ **

She brought the clicker end of the pen to her mouth and absently nibbled it, staring hard at the back of her hand and waiting for another response.

They replied after a few more minutes, and Arya spent the rest of the night alternating between writing on and washing her hands.

* * *

 

“What's that?” Sansa asked one morning a week and a half later, her auburn brows scrunched up in a frown as she reached out for her sisters sleeve.

The markings on her hand had become so normal to Arya that oftentimes, at home and during her last class especially, she neglected to cover her palm at all. It was really only a matter of time until that negligence bit her in the ass.

“Nothin',” Arya replied in an attempt to shrug it off but knew it was pointless. Sansa would never leave this alone - especially not when she found the concept _so romantic_.

“That's not nothing! Arya, have you been matched?”

Given an option on who to tell first, Arya would have made the call on either Jon or their father. But clearly she had ended up with the  _ last _ person she would have picked finding out and that's when she really knew something in the universe thoroughly enjoyed fucking with her.

“Yes. Leave it, will you?”

“No! Do you know who it is?” Sansa didn't give enough pause between questions for a reply, even if Arya had wanted to offer some sort of response, it wasn't possible. “Has to be a boy, though, look at that penmanship. Mother would have a conniption if any of us wrote that way. Does she know? Does anybody know, yet?”

Arya swatted away her sisters slender hand and huffed. “No, I don't know. No, she doesn't know. No, nobody else knows. I'd intended to keep it that way but I doubt that now. Q and A over?”

Hurt seemed to flash in Sansa’s eyes but it was gone before it could be registered. “You doubt it? Arya, I- Look, if you don't want me to say anything, then I won't.”

When her little sister raised an unconvinced eyebrow, Sansa sighed and continued. “When I found out I was matched, I was ecstatic. But I wanted to keep it to myself for just a little. And when I figured out who it was, I wanted to keep it quiet even more. You might not believe this but I can understand that much.”

“So, you're not gonna run off to the group chat?”

“Definitely not. But, I do crave information. Completely confidential, of course.”

A few years ago she would have been equally amused and disgusted by the idea of her chatting with Sansa at all, let alone about something so personal and touchy. This was the type of conversation she was wary of talking to even Jon about, and he was somewhat of her best friend. But their relationship had made great strides in the last few years and, with the help of a few momentous occasions and the occasional family therapy session, Arya knew it was an opportunity to further fix their bond. Maybe it would even help to cement it.

So they talked.

And talked, and talked, and talked until they had visited what seemed like eighty other subjects and Arya was impossibly late. By the point at which either had the sense to check the time, the day was quite nearly halfway through, and Sansa simply called her out sick. _ (Where she had learned to do that, Arya didn't know, but she'd be lying if she said it weren't a touch impressive.) _

* * *

 

**_'whatd I miss today?’_ **

She didn't have to wait long for a reply. Within only a minute, words began appearing beneath hers. Black, small, messy letters strung together a reply.

**_'review mostly. where were you?’_ **

**_'home with my sister.’_ **

**_'ditched?’_ **

**_'accidentally.’_ **

**_'how do you accidentally ditch?’_ **

**_'youd be surprised at what I can manage.’_ **

They chatted for another hour or so until he decided to head to bed. Arya hadn't asked but she was going along with Sansa’s idea based on the handwriting and assuming it was likely a guy. She was never one for stereotypes regarding gender  _ \- or anything, for that matter - _ but she could admit it was rare to have met a girl with bad handwriting. Or at least handwriting of that degree. Her own hadn't been on par with Sansa or Jeyne or her mother's, but it had been simple enough to read at the very least.

And though she tried not to think on it too much, she found herself smiling each time the mess took over the back of her hand.

* * *

 

Arya pushed her sleeve up about halfway through the test and began doodling. She penned stars along her wrist, creeping up towards the back of her hand and dotting the area before her knuckles, all through the first page of the test.

Then on the second page she added a couple of shooting and falling stars, a minimalistic moon, and little dots of stardust.

The third had her creating a small rocketship for good measure. He didn't add anything and she pretended to like it best that way; her own little masterpiece for the both of them.

Instead of focusing on the baseless disappointment she didn't want to feel, she pulled her sleeve down.

After awhile Arya deemed the test complete. Looked over twice _\- as much as anybody else would say otherwise, she wasn't a slacker -_ and made her way through the row of desks to turn it in. She dropped the paper onto the stack on Mr. Forrester’s desk but before she could turn, something caught her eye.

And within just a few moments, with a galaxy on her arm, her entire world shifted.

* * *

 

He reminded her of someone.   
  
Arya happened to be good with faces, and even better with names. Her recall was excellent but she couldn't seem to place the strong jaw, stunning blue eyes, or inky hair of the boy in front of her. She knew it from  _ somewhere _ and the constant niggling thought of familiarity was beginning to get on her nerves.   
  
She was the type of girl that liked answers, after all.   
  
How long had the been in class together and she didn't even know his name?

_ Why _ didn't she know his name?

It was a shock to her system when she’d noticed the identical artwork peeking out from under his jacket sleeve when he put his test over her own, not even glancing at her before heading back to his desk a few rows over from her own.

She worried her lower lip before discreetly bringing her pen to her hand.

Purple ink marked  **_‘2-1’_ ** by her thumb.

A few seconds passed. She glanced at the clock, waited a full minute, then looked down.

**_‘1?’_ **

Stupid. Of course he thought it was just math. He hadn't seemed to notice her at all just then at the desk. Too stupid to get her hint, it seemed, and Arya didn't know if she was annoyed or relieved.

She supposed it was a bit of both.

* * *

 

She didn't write back until the next day, scribbling  quickly and brushing her teeth between replies.

**_'do you think it's weird you don't know me?’_ **

**_'I do know you’_ **

**_'you know what I mean, stupid’_ **

**_'why, do you think it's weird?’_ **

**_'I don't know’_ **

It took him fourteen minutes to respond, ink smearing her hand from where he began and erased multiple times.  **_'do you want to meet?’_ ** stood out against the blue tint on her skin.

She didn't reply.

* * *

 

Mr. Forrester changed their seats.

As fate would have it  _ \- the idiotic fucker that she didn't want to bow to in the first place - _ she ended up right in front of him.

It took a good chunk of her self control not to look back, not to write him a message, not to scream at her teacher. Her patience was being tested terribly and Sansa was the sister with patience in spades, leaving Arya severely lacking during this time.

* * *

 

He wrote on himself a lot.

She could sense the movement and, without fail, would check her hand once she was safely in the hall and see endless scribbles.

To his credit, he never asked her why she wouldn't respond and it saved her what she was hesitant to admit would feel a lot like heartache.

* * *

 

After a week he stopped trying.

* * *

 

He drew a bull. She doubted it was a ploy for her attention or an effort to draw a reply. Seemed more like an absent doodle than a carefully thought plan and Arya would bet her inheritance it was just that.

After fidgeting for a minute she dug around on her nightstand to find a pen and, when she finally did, she drew a direwolf running beside.

There wasn't a reply the entire night through. When she checked that morning, there was still nothing added, and that afternoon left her with much the same.

But that night  **_'thank you’_ ** appeared in rushed lettering.

* * *

 

It took her a week to come to a decision.

She swiveled in her seat and watched him, cool grey eyes taking in every detail. After a minute she cocked her head, the ends of her hair tickling her knee through the rips in her jeans, and if her noticed for those first few minutes he didn't say anything.

When she grew tired of the silence  _ \- she didn't think she'd ever grow tired of watching him - _ she reached her hand out and took his, pulling it close enough to comfortably reach.

She pressed the tip of the pen to his hand.  **_'youre welcome’._ **

He looked up, entirely startled and she watched the gears in his head began turning rapidly. His eyes flickered from his hand to her to her hand and back, only stopping when she spoke.

“As fun as it is to risk ink poisoning, I’ve got a keen interest to hear your voice.”

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this during downtimes at work so if there's errors you can blame my sleepiness and howling dogs i guess lol
> 
> // 
> 
> anyways, hope this suits some of you, lmk your thoughts, thanks for reading x


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